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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476683">atlas shrugs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnchills/pseuds/autumnchills'>autumnchills</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Firefam Feels, Found Family, Gen, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Strength, Team as Family, Whump, Worried Eddie Diaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:14:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnchills/pseuds/autumnchills</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The golf cart slides, and everyone screams.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The only one who doesn’t shout is Buck, and in the split second it takes to realize that, he also realizes that the cart doesn’t topple over the edge like he expected it to. Instead, it jerks to a stop a few feet out of his reach, now hanging diagonally with the front right tire hanging over the edge as if anchored by something on the back left.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sure enough, it is.</i>
</p><p>—</p><p>Buck finds himself going above and beyond to save two teens when their golf cart goes off the road. It’s really no big deal to anchor the thing before it slides over the edge of the cliff, but when it slides before they get the chance to anchor it? That’s an issue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley &amp; Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>9-1-1 Tales</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>atlas shrugs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title taken from Ayn Rand’s “Atlas Shrugged” because it was the perfect fit for Buck in this fic and fuck it yolo or whatever  </p><p>Special Thank You to my Beta Reader <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nearly/works">Nearly</a>!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Evan Buckley is strong in all senses of the word. When he was crushed under the ladder truck, it took mental, emotional, and physical strength to make it through recovery. The entire team knew he faced his hardships with that, but nothing could ever go up against Buck’s power of will. </p><p>Doctors knew Buck would walk again but never thought that he’d work again, yet he was recertified within months of the incident. Blood clots and blood thinners aside, he defied all expectations. He continued to as he took extreme care of his health while he was on the job <em>with </em>the anticoagulants. </p><p>Whether Buck came back with something to prove or if it was all for himself, he came back harder working, motivated, and downright <em>stronger</em>. </p><p>One of the LAFD’s expectations during their twenty-four-hour shifts was at least one hour of exercise, and despite the loose rules around it at their station, Buck stuck to it like gum on a shoe. If chores were done and duties were fulfilled, the first of Buck’s free time was spent lifting in the gym.</p><p>And all of that lifting added up. If any one of them were to compare this Buck to the one they met, they’d see not only his personal growth but the change in his muscle definition as well. There was no missing it when Buck’s t-shirts started to fit a little tighter, stretching across the expanse of his chest and defining his pectorals in a way that made patients’ wandering eyes widen on a call. There was no missing when a new batch of LAFD shirts was being passed around and Buck had to request his shirts a size larger. (Not that he <em> needed </em> it, but they were becoming a bit snug, and even though Buck likes the slim fit feel, he didn’t like when he felt like he couldn’t even stretch.)</p><p>There was also no missing the ease in which Buck handled the heavier equipment or the ease in which he ran the hose line or rolled it up even faster than he used to. </p><p>It was safe to say Buck had put on some muscle, and it came to a point that the team was wondering just how much. Chimney had asked him once, but their conversation was interrupted by the alarm. During a different shift, Eddie had tried to peek at the plates on the bar when Buck was squatting, but because of the style of weights they had, he could barely differentiate between two 15’s or one 45-pounder. The 25’s were just as close in size to the latter of them, so it was no use unless they just asked him. </p><p>Which is what Hen finally managed, asking how much he could squat by feigning curiosity in lifting. Buck had rattled off a number like it was no big deal and Hen had immediately reported back to the team with the information.</p><p>“Okay,” Chimney said. “That’s squats. Everyone can squat more than they lift, though. How much does he deadlift? Or bench press?”</p><p>Hen pursed her lips and blinked owlishly. “I didn’t think to ask.” </p><p>Chimney and Eddie had groaned and simultaneously flopped backward onto the couch in exasperation. </p><p>Logically, they knew they could ask, but something about it felt invasive. Buck didn’t mind showing off his muscles, but the second he got a comment or compliment on them, he was retreating back into a shell like he didn’t know how to handle the words. Maybe he didn’t. </p><p>The team understood the boundary, though, and never pushed, so the fascination with Buck’s growing physical strength died out as fast as it had come about. One day, they just stop being curious, and the fact that Buck’s muscles sometimes bulge as big as Chimney’s head became another known fact of the firehouse.</p><p>And then they get a call to a roadside driving accident.</p><p> </p><p>The team loads up into the truck as fast as ever and listens through their headsets for details on the incident. Apparently, a sixteen-year-old boy named Parker and his friend Ryan took his parents’ golf cart on a joyride and a bird flew in front of the cart, causing the boy to freak out and swerve off the side of the road. The main problem was that, well… they were in the hills behind their neighborhood, and they hadn’t actually been on a road. Hills meant slopes or cliffs past every curve, and the major problem was that they were off a beaten path that didn’t have actual pavement, which further meant that there aren’t any guard rails. </p><p>Luckily, the golf cart had come to a stop at the edge of a slope, but they were being held by what little traction the tires had gained. Every time they’d so much as shifted in their seats, the cart creaked forward. Ryan had already made it slide when he moved to call 9-1-1, and they didn’t want to take the chance of jumping out and not being able to grab onto something before they slipped off the edge. The edge itself leads to a near-immediate ninety-degree and fifty-foot drop. </p><p>It’s a good thing that there are protocols for this kind of call, though. The 118 pulls up in no time, and everyone falls into place without much direction. Buck and Eddie throw on harnesses as Hen and Chim ready the ropes and anchors, and Bobby calls for aerial recon. The ambulance isn’t with them because of the unsteady road— taking the truck itself has been a risk— so while they’re equipped for medical care if necessary, they aren’t equipped for transport.</p><p>“We’re good to go,” Eddie announces from a few feet away. He and Buck take their positions at the top of the slope.</p><p>“Copy that,” Bobby says, throwing them a signal for the go-ahead. </p><p>The two men begin their descent, calling out to the two teens below and instructing them not to move. </p><p>One gives a weak, “‘kay,” in response, but the two don’t make any other attempts to communicate.</p><p>They reach the cart in no time, moving swiftly down the slippery slope. It’s a wonder how the cart didn’t go over because even Buck and Eddie are having a problem keeping their feet under them on the dirt. </p><p>“Okay,” Eddie calls out to them. “We’re about to a—”</p><p>It’s too late. The golf cart slides, and everyone screams.</p><p>The kids’ shouts are the loudest, piercing straight through Eddie’s rapidly beating heart and threatening to pull it out of his chest because they’d been <em>right there</em>. From above, their friends are shouting, and he hears it through his radio, too.</p><p>The only one who doesn’t shout is Buck, and in the split second it takes to realize that, he also realizes that the cart doesn’t topple over the edge like he expected it to. Instead, it jerks to a stop a few feet out of his reach, now hanging diagonally with the front right tire hanging over the edge as if anchored by something on the back left.</p><p>Sure enough, it is. </p><p>Eddie glances at Buck to his left, and to his surprise, Buck <em>is </em>the anchor point. The man’s hands are wrapped around the back metal frame, one above the other. His knuckles are white and the veins on his arms look like they’re about to pop out of his skin. But the position is all off because the weight of the golf cart pulls Buck in a different direction than his harness is clipped from, and one of his arms is bending too far back while the other stretches across his chest uncomfortably. </p><p>Cold floods through Eddie’s veins as he sees the strained look on Buck’s face, red and twisted in pain. With the angle that the golf cart rests on the slope, he’s not holding one hundred percent of the weight of the cart— it wouldn’t be possible— but Eddie knows that this easily outweighs any of his personal lifting records by at least a couple hundred pounds. </p><p>He jumps into action. Eddie can hardly hear anything his team is saying above him because of his heartbeat in his ears and shock running through his every nerve, but he’s pretty sure they’re yelling about the anchors.</p><p>In another second, Eddie is sliding himself down a couple of feet to the cart again and hooking his anchor point to the right side of the back frame. </p><p>“Hold on tight, kids!” he yells.</p><p>He scrambles his way across the slope to Buck’s side then, struggling to keep traction under his shoes. It’s only a few feet to cross, but it feels miles away with such uneven footing.</p><p>“You’re going to feel a lurch, but my friend here can’t keep this whole thing up much longer! You need to hold on with everything you got!”</p><p>There’s a voice coming out of his radio, but he ignores it for continuing on his path. He doesn’t have a second to spare.</p><p>Eddie grabs the line on Buck’s side, where the latter had dropped it in favor of grabbing hold of the golf cart, and kneels below him, hooking it onto the frame just beneath his hands, then yells, “Buck, let go!”</p><p>It’s a testament to how much Buck trusts him that he does. </p><p>The cart slides a couple more feet as it evens out and jerks to a sudden halt. The nose of it tips forward dangerously over the edge, but it goes no further and the kids hold on with their own shouts of fear. </p><p>Buck <em>drops</em>.</p><p>He gasps as he collapses in on himself, losing his footing on the dirt below his feet. His entire body careens into the hillside, and his helmet barely saves him from knocking his head into some thick plant roots, though his face still manages to scrape across the uneven surface of dirt and rocks. Buck barely even notices it as he breathes so hard that Eddie worries he’ll inhale dirt.</p><p>“Diaz, talk to me,” Bobby says through the radio, probably not for the first time. “What exactly just happened?”</p><p>“Cart is secure! It slid, but Buck held it up,” he reports back, then turns to the teen boys. “You guys okay?”</p><p>He receives confirmation that they’re okay, but he has no doubt that they’re scared shitless. Above him, Chim looks between his friends in disbelief. They’d been able to see most of what was happening, but he isn’t sure he’s able to believe it.</p><p>“We’ll get you guys out of here in a minute,” Eddie says to the two boys. “If you have a problem holding on, say something.”</p><p>He gets nods in response, but neither boy offers up anything else to say.</p><p>“Did you just say <em> Buck held it up </em>?” Chimney blurts through the radio, loud and in shock. Eddie turns his attention to Buck as their friend goes on. “As in, Buck held the golf cart—”</p><p>“Yes,” Eddie says, “but he’s down for the count. I could use you down here!”</p><p>“Copy,” Chim says, slipping back into professionalism. No one would hold the slip against him, though. They’re all thinking the same thing.</p><p>It takes a second to maneuver around Buck, making sure no lines get tangled and that he can properly assess him. With Buck’s body pressed against the slanting hillside, Eddie has to get both feet under him again and bracket Buck’s body with his legs to crouch over him.</p><p>He brings his hands up to Buck’s face and pats his cheeks. Buck’s breaths remain heavy and desperate for oxygen, but his eyes have fallen shut. “Buck, c’mon,” he mutters. “Open your damn eyes.”</p><p>Buck shakes his head slightly, a movement that Eddie probably wouldn’t have been able to detect if not for the fact that he was holding him. </p><p>“We’re going to need that medevac for Buck,” Eddie radios to Bobby. “Kids seem unharmed, just scared.”</p><p>“Copy that.”</p><p>“Make way,” Chim calls from above him. “I’ll get the kids and you keep an eye on Buckaroo.”</p><p>Eddie nods and shifts his attention back to his friend. Buck hasn’t stopped panting, and now that his skin is returning to its normal shade, he can also see splotches of red under the skin on his arms. Along the veins, he can see smaller lines. </p><p>He barely notices Chim passing by him, too focussed on looking over Buck.</p><p>Hen will definitely have to check on Buck, too, to confirm his suspicions, but he’s pretty sure the blotches are burst blood vessels. They’re usually a harmless thing, but right now he’s guessing it came from the extreme muscle strain and he’s really hoping Buck didn’t tear something.</p><p>“Buck,” he says gently, tapping at his face with the pads of his thumbs. “I’m going to shift us to the side, okay?”</p><p>Buck starts shaking his head with a renewed vigor. </p><p>“I ca—” he gasps out, unable to finish the word. He swallows heavily then shakes his head again. “Can’t move.”</p><p>“<em>I’m </em>going to move you to the side,” Eddie explains.</p><p>“No,” Buck says on the end of an exhale. “My arm.”</p><p>What about his—</p><p>Eddie looks down in confusion. Both of Buck’s arms hang limply at his sides, but as his eyes scale them, he realizes the issue.</p><p>“Buck’s got a dislocated shoulder,” Eddie reports into the radio. “Cap, I’m going to need a basket for Buck. He’s not coming back up on his own.”</p><p>“Eddie,” Chim says. “I’m about to come up with the first kid, I need you guys to move.”</p><p>“Shit,” Eddie curses. “Buck, I need to move you, man. I know it’s going to hurt, but I’m just going to lift your body and slide.”</p><p>Buck groans but nods this time, signaling that he’s ready.</p><p>“Okay, Chim, I’m moving him now.”</p><p>It’s a simple task, but not an easy one. Still attached to the rope, Buck will hang like a pendulum, but the hold Eddie has to use to pull him off to the side will jostle him around. </p><p>He makes quick work, though, bringing both of his legs to Buck’s left side, and he curls one arm under his friend’s legs and another under his back, low so as not to press between his shoulders. It’s similar to a bridal carry but lacks the secure grip, and it leaves a strain on Eddie’s arms as he does his best to lift Buck straight up off of the ground, but it’s the best way to get as much tension on Buck’s line so that it can bear most of his weight. </p><p>It takes a moment for Eddie to move backward and out of the way, but less than a minute later, he and Buck are off to the side, and he sets him down as gently as possible. He can’t avoid causing more pain completely, though, and Buck makes that known as he groans when he settles. The heavy breaths renew as he struggles through the pain, eyes shut and eyebrows pinched. Eddie can see the trembling in his arms, and his fingers remain curled as if still wrapped around the frame of the golf cart.</p><p>“The kids,” Buck eventually grits out from behind clenched teeth. “Okay?”</p><p>Eddie glances to where Chimney is making his ascent and then back down to the teen below him. Parker is still, but he appears to be calmer than he had been before.</p><p>As if sensing his gaze, the teen boy speaks up.</p><p>“Um… sir?” The kid calls. “Is your friend okay?”</p><p>Eddie finds his hand reaching for Buck’s face again as if to check that he’s there and still breathing. He cups Buck’s cheek as he responds to the boy.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says.</p><p>Parker’s voice falters as he continues. “I couldn’t— I couldn’t see what happened. Did you say he held us up? When we slid?”</p><p>Some loose dirt slides from above, trickling down the hillside, and Eddie looks up to see Chim on his way back down. To the side of Chim and almost directly above him, he spots the basket making its way down as well.</p><p>“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, still somewhat in disbelief himself. “He did.”</p><p>The teen sputters for a second before asking, “Are you <em> sure </em> he’s okay?”</p><p>Buck’s face twitches beneath his hand and Eddie can tell that Buck is trying to smile.</p><p>“Yeah,” Eddie states, more sure of it than a few moments ago. “Buckley here is the strongest dude I know.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Despite the rocky start to the rescue, the rest goes smoothly and time passes quickly. By the time Eddie and Buck make it back up to the top, the medevac is there to take Buck to the nearest hospital. </p><p>Unfortunately, Buck’s muscles are still stiff and beyond sore by the time the team can stop in to check on him. It doesn’t help that his shoulder is, as Eddie previously assumed, dislocated.</p><p>Buck’s arm is in a sling, and he smiles lazily at the team as they enter his hospital room. His cheek has some harsh scrapes from where he’d slid across the dirt, but they seem less irritated than earlier and are fortunately free of any bandages, meaning they were hardly a concern to the doctors. He’s also covered in ice packs, wrapped by some elastic bandages to keep them in place. Chimney thinks he looks painstakingly similar to the Michelin Man but keeps the thought to himself.</p><p>“Hey,” Buck whispers, likely not having the energy to speak at full volume. </p><p>“Hey, Buckaroo,” Chim says as he comes to a stop at the end of the bed. “What’s the damage?”</p><p>The rest of the team spreads out around the bed, Bobby and Eddie each taking a side and Hen stopping just a step behind Eddie. No one misses the way that Eddie grabs Buck’s free hand and runs his thumb along the back of it.</p><p>“I pulled a muscle in my back,” Buck starts, “dislocated my shoulder,” he adds, wiggling his fingers from where they stick out of the sling, “and I have <em> many </em> strained muscles.” His eyes scan his own arms. </p><p>“How long have these been on?” Eddie questions, poking at a pack on Buck’s forearm.</p><p>“Less than ten minutes,” Buck says. “A nurse is supposed to be back after fifteen to take them off. They gave me some anti-inflammatories, too. I think they’re going to prescribe me something to take home for the pain.”</p><p>“What about the bruises?” Eddie asks. He brushes the back of his finger across one that peeks out from between Buck’s hospital gown and a bandage. It’s considerably darker than the bright red Eddie had seen on the call.</p><p>“Just some burst blood vessels,” Buck assures. “There’s no danger there unless there’s swelling— which there hasn’t been.”</p><p>Eddie nods in approval, and Bobby brings his own hand to Buck’s shoulder, careful not to put too much pressure.</p><p>“And how are you feeling?” Bobby asks. “You mentioned pain.”</p><p>Buck tries to shrug but winces at the movement. “How are the kids?”</p><p>Bobby notes the deflection but doesn’t comment on it. If Buck doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t push him to.</p><p>“Those two boys are fine, thanks to you. That was one hell of a stunt.”</p><p>A blush rises to Buck’s cheeks, but he shakes his head and his gaze falls to his lap.</p><p>“I was barely able to hold on for a few seconds,” Buck huffs out. “If Eddie hadn’t—”</p><p>“Buck.” Bobby cuts him off with a raised hand and eyes wide in disbelief. “What you did was risky and could have seriously hurt you.” Buck nods along in shame. “If you hadn’t been able to put your own strength into that, the weight of the cart could have torn the harness away from your line in a second and taken you down with it.”</p><p>Buck nods again, his mood seeming to drop even more, and Bobby sighs in exasperation. </p><p>“Stop that,” the captain says. “This isn’t a reprimanding. What you did was risky, but you’re also likely the only one who could have pulled it off.”</p><p>Buck’s head shoots up to look at Bobby. The surprise is clear on his face, and his eyes glisten just a bit more than before.</p><p>“But I—”</p><p>Hen cuts him off this time. “You have a lot of high expectations for yourself, but you’re not Atlas, Buck.” A fond smile spreads over her face. “You’re just Buck, but that’s still a damn hell of a lot to be.”</p><p>Buck swallows hard and nods.</p><p>“You did good, strongman,” Eddie adds. </p><p>Buck smiles at the nickname and he bites his lip nervously. </p><p>“Well, don’t think all this strength is mine alone,” he says. “I’ve got the best support a guy could ask for.” He looks at his friends, making sure to meet their eyes. “Thank you, guys. For being here, for caring. It means a lot.”</p><p>Chimney laughs and pats Buck’s leg. “That’s what family is for, Buck.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is, but Buck has a bad habit of losing sight of those things sometimes.</p><p>The words fill Buck with a familiar warmth, the kind that he can finally relax and settle into, and at last, the weight on his shoulders slips away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>☼ Is it possible? Who knows. If it's not, oh well! Also I didn't really think about this but I know it's a very SoCal thing to have families who own golf carts for driving around certain communities and this is loosely based on a story from my own city when I was younger lmao. I'm not sure how likely it would be to happen in other states or countries so sorry if that part comes off as far fetched 😂</p><p>☼ Please leave kudos/comments as they encourage me to write more! Be sure to let me know if you think I’m missing any necessary/supplementary tags or if you think a tag I have is incorrect.</p><p>☼ If you actually read these notes, please use this (💪) emoji in your comment! Even if you don’t have a comment in mind, think of it as some extra kudos that I will appreciate and love! 🥰</p></blockquote></div></div>
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